


The Weight of Silence

by SuggestiveScribe



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Asphyxiation, Breathplay, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, hmm I wonder, wait is that a
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 20:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuggestiveScribe/pseuds/SuggestiveScribe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was always this way on nights like tonight, nights when he had to be grand and assertive, nights when he spent all his time looking down and no time looking up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of Silence

Oikawa was making his rounds.

Iwaizumi watched him from where he sat, elbow propped on the table and knuckles supporting the weight of his chin. Oikawa's strides were long, shoulders flared broad and confident, lips caught in the upward curl of a wolfish smirk. His chin was tilted up even when he had to look down, and it was that down-the-nose glance that had always pissed Iwaizumi off, had always made his face crinkle in distaste, had always made him want to force Oikawa into a hard, bruising kiss.

The look obviously had some merit.

It was working here too; he was among company executives and sales reps and titles that Iwaizumi didn't bother to remember, and yet he could make them feel the need to chase _him_ rather than the other way around. Oikawa was good at his job-- any job, that he bothered to put his mind to.

Iwaizumi's eyes were etching out the hard lines of his shoulders under his button-down, sliding down his spine and taking note of the tight cinch of his belt around the slimness of his hips. He always appreciated Oikawa's looks, but he found a special enjoyment in doing so without the knowledge of the other. It made his intimate appreciation hold its power, kept Tooru off-balanced and blushing.

Oikawa glanced over his shoulder, eyes catching on Iwaizumi's gaze. His lips caught into a dangerous grin.

Dammit.

Iwaizumi's gaze didn't waver. He simply stared back, lips set in a flat line even as his heart tripped around a bit in his chest. Oikawa's face didn't change, but something seemed to light up in his eyes, his vague sense of knowing sparking his irises into heat. Into a plan.

Iwaizumi's eyes dropped back down the table. He took a large swallow of his drink.

It wasn't until dinner was being served that Oikawa returned to the table, lips spread open wide and happy in the reverberation of a laugh. He lowered into his seat, back still straight, chin still tipped upward, voice still ringing with confidence.

Iwaizumi smirked.

Oikawa could be difficult for some, but never for Iwaizumi. Oikawa's assertion of dominance came naturally to him; he was born with a spine to keep him standing tall and proud, gifted with enough intelligence and drive to make his pomp born of fact rather than something imagined or misplaced. But in truth Oikawa didn't spend all his time nursing his steel spine or stoking his ego. Sometimes Oikawa wanted the steel to snap, the fire to be smothered.

When Iwaizumi reached forward to grab his glass his eyes caught on Oikawa's, milk chocolate gaze staring steady and focused across the table. Iwaizumi watched him, long fingers trailing up his throat to rub at the back of his neck, a tell.

Iwaizumi's fingers stalled around the rim of the glass, tawny liquid tipping around as he watched the slight part of Oikawa's lips.

He was always this way on nights like tonight, nights when he had to be grand and assertive, nights when he spent all his time looking down and no time looking up.

Iwaizumi felt the blood purr into heat in his veins, itching up his thighs as he brought his glass forward and threw the liquid into the back of his throat. Oikawa's lip pinched in as he gave a quick blink, then his focus was sliding off to the side, amusement and excitement lingering at the edge of his mouth.

They had an understanding.

Iwaizumi felt the burn of his drink bloom a languid heat through his chest, and he decided to blame the slight tingle over his cheeks on the liquor. It was definitely that and definitely not the sudden desperation he felt to be back in the hotel room, absent of posh booths and businessmen.

He could tell Oikawa was growing antsy as well, but only in the faintest of ways: fingers walking over the table when he wasn't speaking, the dig of his teeth into his lip when there was an extended silence. Iwaizumi would catch him stealing glances across the table, small flickers of his eyes over Iwaizumi's shoulder and his throat. Iwaizumi felt his cheeks burn hotter.

When they said their goodbyes-- handshakes and small bows and pleasantries-- they did so succinctly.

The cab ride was a silent one. Oikawa's fingers were curling and uncurling over his thighs, fingertips scraping against the pleat of his pants and bunching the fabric. They didn't even bother to make eye contact, and Iwaizumi knew it was because they were both struggling with their lack of patience.

Iwaizumi wanted to touch him-- a quiet glide of fingers over his leg, a small tug at his belt loop-- anything that would transfer some of his heat onto the other. But instead he waited, steeling himself as streetlights cast a rhythmic glow over the flesh of Oikawa's cheek.

When the cab lurched to a halt they both exited the vehicle a little too conspicuously, doors flinging open and footsteps moving quick across the concrete. The elevator ride up to their room consisted of Oikawa attempting not to show the impatient rattle of his fingers and Iwaizumi keeping his eyes consciously forward.  

It wasn't until they were in their room that they finally faced one another, shoulders squared and eyes locked. Oikawa had his back to the bed, face blank, eyes tilted down only the tiny amount needed to gaze at Iwaizumi. He took a step forward. Iwaizumi took a step back.

Oikawa's lips sealed into a straight line. Iwaizumi watched him, carefully.

It was difficult to say, especially when Iwaizumi knew what would follow, but this moment, the small moment of tension filled silence, was one of Iwaizumi's favorite parts.

He tilted his head slightly as he looked upon Oikawa. Standing there, nothing but air and quiet between them, Iwaizumi could almost feel Oikawa's personality shift. Every exhale was a puff of confidence huffed from between his teeth, every blink was clearing the fog of superiority in his eyes and revealing it as something else. Something... tender.

Iwaizumi watched the broad spread of his shoulders slowly relax, the hard pierce of his eyes turn into something receptive and wanting.

Fire burned in Iwaizumi's chest. He inhaled what Oikawa left behind and made it his own, felt his eyes grow sterner and his chin tilt higher, back straightening as he watched the soft part of Oikawa's lips. He could feel the dominance shift in the room like it was a draft, or something he could taste and roll around his mouth.

Oikawa raised his hand, rocking forward on his feet to touch at Iwaizumi's face. Iwaizumi leaned away from him.

"Nope," he said, re-centering his weight once Oikawa had silently dropped his hand. Iwaizumi buried his hands deep in his pockets, eyes sweeping up and down Oikawa.

"Take off your shirt," Iwaizumi finally directed.

Oikawa made a small dissatisfied noise, face sagging in irritation, "You're really going to make me wait?"

Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed, lips carving into an even harder line.

Oikawa's gaze jumped away, fingers rising to pull at the top button. His long fingers popped the buttons free, one by one, until he was shrugging the shirt to the floor and pulling his undershirt out of the tuck of his pants.

Iwaizumi watched the long stretch of abs and chest as he peeled it over his head, muscles jumping beneath smooth expanses of fair skin.

Oikawa looked at him with inquisitive eyes, the expression a bit too good at playing innocent while he searched Iwaizumi's face for a reaction.

Iwaizumi's feet shifted on the carpet, his hands squeezing a little harder within the confines of his pockets as he felt his cock flush warm with anticipation. Oikawa's body looked lit with electricity, his shoulders and muscles twitching like he had just gone for a jog and was left with excited limbs and excess energy.

Iwaizumi nodded toward Oikawa's waist, "Now the pants."

Oikawa attempted to look coy but failed, his eagerness a little too plain on his face. If Iwaizumi hadn't felt very firm and established in his role, he might have chuckled.

The button popped open, allowing just a slight view of Oikawa's boxers. Then the zipper was being pulled down, a slow motion that allowed Iwaizumi to hear the detachment of every nestled piece of metal.

When Oikawa pushed his pants off his hips and stepped away from them his cock was already visibly testing the fabric of his boxers, albeit not at full hardness.

"Those too," Iwaizumi instructed with a bob of his head, as if it had been obvious.

He shed those as well, quickly as if they had been offensive, and Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow at Oikawa's half hard length.

"We haven't even done anything," he stated simply.

Oikawa simply glared at him, enthusiasm yielding to irritation. Iwaizumi stood in front of him, fully clothed, and watched a tremor crawl through Oikawa's limbs and over his naked flesh. His glare finally fractured, and his gaze dipped downward as he spoke, "What next?"

The submissive give of Oikawa's voice made Iwaizumi's cock twitch, his throat going tight and dry. Iwaizumi's mouth twisted as he glanced away from him, licking his lips before responding with perfect nonchalance, "Well I should probably get undressed..." Oikawa dared look hopeful for a moment, hands raising and reaching forward.

Iwaizumi lurched half a step back again. "I'll do it," he said, pulling a hand from his pocket and holding up his palm.

Oikawa's shoulders sank, but he watched intently as Iwaizumi undid his shirt, not a dawdling movement but not with any amount of speed that might make him fumble. In truth Iwaizumi could do without this part; even under the facade of confidence he wasn't keen to strutting around naked. What he had to focus on wasn't his own feelings, but the look on Oikawa's face-- the open appreciation of his mouth, the focused drag of his eyes downward, the way he tipped his head and followed seams of muscles like he wanted to press his lips against them.

Once free of his own clothing he was fully aware of the stillness of the air, the stagnant weight that made every breath of Oikawa's a sensation against his skin. Iwaizumi took a step forward, and Oikawa stiffened. He could tell by the thrill running over Oikawa's flesh that he was touch starved, nervous energy making his fingers shake at his sides and his pulse flutter at his neck. But he didn't lean forward, didn't force any interaction because he knew that would mean more punishment, more waiting, and even less touch.

Iwaizumi got close to him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin and his exhales huff hard against his face. He slowly raised his hand, careful not to accidentally bump against any other part of Oikawa's body, and then fit his hand around Oikawa's throat.

There was a strange noise that worked out of Oikawa's mouth, a rough cough with a little bit of voice attached, and it vibrated against Iwaizumi's palm in the same moment that Oikawa's cock twitched against his leg.

Iwaizumi shook his head.

Oikawa looked at him, soft-eyed and hopeful again, and even though Iwaizumi wasn't asserting near enough pressure to cut off all his oxygen, he was shaking.

Iwaizumi could feel him grow harder against him.

"You're fucked up," Iwaizumi observed, a bit of condescension working to color his words.

Oikawa simply took a small breath, and Iwaizumi could feel it rush beneath the hold of his hand.

Iwaizumi's face didn't change, and his words came out flat, "Touch yourself."

Oikawa's voice trilled high in complaint, "Iwa-chan, _please_ \--"

Iwaizumi blinked, hand pulling away from Oikawa's throat.

There was a small whimper, and Oikawa was tipping forward back into Iwaizumi's hand as his own hand slid inward to stroke once over himself. He shuddered, his shoulders rattling and eyes fluttering closed.

Iwaizumi fit his palm more firmly against Oikawa's throat. "Good boy," he said as Oikawa pulled another gasp from himself, palm slicking through precum to slide over his shaft.

Oikawa _whined_ , shoulders lurching forward and hips jumping into his touch.

It was a persona, of course. Iwaizumi wasn't sure how it happened, the first time the patronizing little praise had slipped out of his mouth without thought, but he remembered Oikawa's _reaction_ , the needy little moans and quickened breaths he adopted when he was being praised. It had made Iwaizumi's blood boil, had made him want to scatter tiny praises all over Oikawa's skin as he fucked into him hard.

Iwaizumi allowed his hand to twitch a bit tighter around Oikawa's throat, and Oikawa groaned, eyes fluttering shut and hand working more quickly over himself.

"Hajime," he breathed roughly, hips urging forward into his own touch.

The hotel room was all clean lines and corners-- sterile, with the feeling of being untouched-- and it made the sounds that littered the air more lewd somehow, the slick slide of palm on cock and hurried little breaths echoing off the vacant walls clear and audible like they were the only sounds in the universe.

Iwaizumi squeezed harder, the choking breath of response laced with a moan, and Oikawa started to shake, hand working faster.

Iwaizumi watched him, face blank even though he could feel precum rolling over the head of his cock and sliding down the length. "You're cute when you're submissive," Iwaizumi commented, almost fondly.

Oikawa lurched forward, attempting to force more pressure against his throat, and Iwaizumi dropped his hand, loosing Oikawa's neck before shoving his palm hard against his chest.

Oikawa stumbled a step back, the backs of his knees hitting the corner of the mattress and forcing him to fall onto it, eyes wide with mild shock.

"No more touching," Iwaizumi told him firmly, staring down at him.

One of Oikawa's legs had curled up reflexively, but he slowly relaxed, sinking against the bed. His cock was flushed dark, red and dripping like it might be growing painful, and glistening dots of precum caught the light on his abs. His eyes slowly slid down to Iwaizumi's cock. The look on his face was too pleased.

"Did you hear me?" Iwaizumi droned, voice and face flat.

Oikawa's eyes jumped up to Iwaizumi's gaze, but he didn't respond.

"I'm going to grab the lube out of our bag," he explained. His eyes narrowed, already accusing, "You're not allowed to touch yourself."

Oikawa nodded even as a tremor racked his body.

"Good," Iwaizumi said, moving to turn around.

 

 

Oikawa stared up at the ceiling, even though he wasn't seeing it. It was just a blanket of plain white to work as a backdrop to his thoughts, to the overwhelming heat surging through his veins and making his cock throb and ache.

He thought if he touched himself he would come fast-- relieve the pressure in desperate spurts across his stomach-- but instead he curled his hands into fists in the comforter and tried not to think about the weight of Iwaizumi on his throat, on his tongue, pushing him open--

Oikawa cleared his throat through a small groan, turning his head to the side and squeezing his eyes closed. He felt the precum slip warm from his slit and drip onto his skin.

"Ah, you did a good job."

Oikawa opened his eyes, gaze sliding up to find Iwaizumi with a bottle of lube in his hand and walking back toward the bed. He fit his knee between Oikawa's legs without touching them, denting the mattress beneath his weight.

He dropped onto his hands and knees, peering down at Oikawa as he caged him with his shoulders. Oikawa looked up at him, eyes hazy. Oikawa had never been a patient person and Iwaizumi knew that, knew that every moment without touch was another that forced Oikawa's fingers to itch and his cock to pulse uncomfortably with anxiousness.

"Hold out your hand."

Oikawa lifted his right hand without thinking, still gazing into the hard steel of Iwaizumi's irises. His face was stern but not cold; there was a fire backlighting his skin and his eyes, and Oikawa just wanted to _burn_.

Iwaizumi started dumping lube all over Oikawa's fingers, excess sliding around his palm and dripping off his hand. Oikawa frowned.

"What?" Iwaizumi asked, even though he knew exactly 'what'. "You didn't expect me to indulge you already, did you?"

" _Iwa-chan_ ," Oikawa breathed.

"No," Iwaizumi responded before hearing the rest of the thought. He snapped the lid of the lube shut and threw it to the side, "Now finger yourself."

Oikawa couldn't muster anything but a whine, so instead he kept himself silent, staring up at Iwaizumi like he was wounded. He _felt_ wounded.

Iwaizumi adjusted his weight back onto his knees, abs flexing as he stayed perched over Oikawa. He rested one hand on Oikawa's throat, delicate, and the other at the base of his cock. The touch was barely glancing, just enough to send signals of sensation to Oikawa's brain, and he found his hips starting to writhe just for some small amount of fulfillment.

"Come on now," Iwaizumi said, hands still doing nothing but burning a sense of want into Oikawa's flesh, the proximity of him close enough to be warm, but not enough to satisfy.

Oikawa could feel himself start to tremble, small shudders shaking his limbs and making his face go needy and soft.

Iwaizumi sighed, sounding truly exhausted. "What," he asked, taking his hand away from the base of Oikawa's cock and sliding his index finger around in the lube and precum that had dribbled over Oikawa's stomach, "did you forget how?"

He grabbed Oikawa's hand, his grasp firm even around the fingers Oikawa had drenched with lube, and muttered, "Here." He fit their two pointer fingers together, "I'll show you."

Then he guided Oikawa and his hand down to Oikawa's entrance, touched once against the puckered flesh just long enough to spread some lube around, and then drove both their fingers in to the first knuckle.

Oikawa groaned, back arching and head tipping back as his body gripped around the intrusion. Sparks shot down his legs and up his spine, and he felt himself opening up immediately, body greedy for more friction.

Iwaizumi pushed in deeper, both of their fingers sliding together past the second knuckle.

Oikawa started shaking with the effort of holding back. He wanted to sink hard and fast onto their fingers, grind sparks and heat into himself even if it made him raw.

"See, it's not difficult," Iwaizumi explained, voice infuriatingly even as Oikawa's body clenched and shook around him.

Oikawa reached up, attempting to grab Iwaizumi's shoulder, and Iwaizumi dipped away from the motion. Oikawa's hand dropped to the mattress, defeated.

"And in case you get lost," Iwaizumi said, sliding their fingers out in tandem before thrusting back in and forcing a long moan from Oikawa's throat. "Here's your prostate."

He curled his finger, squeezing against the small bead of sensitivity, and Oikawa's vision blanched totally white as he _wailed_ , toes and fingers curling.

Iwaizumi pulled his finger free, the motion delicate despite the hard lines of his face. "You keep going," he directed. "Use at least two."

Oikawa's chest was heaving as Iwaizumi rested his hand back around Oikawa's cock, the sensation still utterly _not enough_ , but Oikawa did as he was told, pulling his fingers out so he could fit his middle finger alongside the other.

When he delved back inside he groaned, but he couldn't help but think about how Iwaizumi's touch had been hotter, thicker, _better_.

"There you go," Iwaizumi said, and as he did so, the grip he had on Oikawa's neck tightened. " _Good boy_."

Oikawa felt the shudder of reaction crest in his chest, breaking over his limbs like a wave. He made a noise, something rough and muddled as he pumped his fingers in and out of himself. He was starting to chase the peak again, the motion of his fingers paired with the dizzying pleasure of Iwaizumi's hand around his throat making pressure mount in his belly and at the base of his cock.

He was climbing, tendrils of sticky heat unfurling in his gut, and he was just mouthing the words 'more' or 'yes' or something equally encouraging when Iwaizumi's hand clamped tight around his neck, breaking the words apart in his throat. The contact was a jolt, a surge of electricity that flooded outward from the point of touch, and Oikawa felt himself surging even harder toward that peak when Iwaizumi clamped down hard around the base of his cock.

He released his hold on Oikawa's neck, probably just to hear the pained wail that broke free from Oikawa's chest. Oikawa's legs kicked slightly, his fingers stuttering out of rhythm within himself, and when he exhaled it felt like a sob as much as it sounded like one.

"Oh sorry," Iwaizumi said, using the hand now free of Oikawa's neck to lightly pull at his wrist. "Were you close?"

Oikawa grit his teeth, nose scrunching as he hissed into the comforter.

Iwaizumi tugged at Oikawa's wrist, coaxing Oikawa to pull his fingers free of his entrance. Oikawa did as he was directed, groaning loud at the loss of friction and pressure. His body felt suddenly void and empty, like everything inside him was expanses of dark space, and he shivered. His flesh crawled and tingled like he was freezing.

Iwaizumi shifted off the bed, taking a few full steps backward to apply lube to his cock. Now the space inside and outside of Oikawa was empty, and Oikawa felt his arms shake hard and violent. He tried to close his eyes but it felt strange, so he kept his vision focused on the spread of the comforter, strangely unruffled beside him.

Then Iwaizumi was back, weight forcing the mattress to give beneath him, and Oikawa blinked up at his face with eyes that he knew were blown wide and black. Iwaizumi looked down at him, and an expression of tenderness was tingeing his features before he smoothed them out into placid lines again.

He dipped down lower, body heat rolling off of him and onto Oikawa. Oikawa wanted to cling to him, to drink up all his warmth and feel it flush against his skin.

"You ready?" Iwaizumi asked, voice low and a little gruff.

Oikawa attempted to respond positively but it just came out as a breath, a small huff, no syllables. He nodded.

Iwaizumi gave a quick downward glance, then Oikawa could feel the head of his cock fitting against his entrance, slick and burning to the touch.

Oikawa's spine rattled against the mattress, and he used every ounce of self control left in him not to shove his hips low onto Iwaizumi's cock.

There was a push, pressure against Oikawa's entrance, and Oikawa sighed in an effort to help his body relax, sinking into the sheets. He felt himself opening, slow and gradual, and Oikawa had to shut his eyes so Iwaizumi wouldn't see them roll back in his head.

Iwaizumi pushed in, just a little, and Oikawa spread, slick friction making him pliable. He groaned, rough and loud as Iwaizumi slipped his entire head past the rim. Oikawa could faintly hear Iwaizumi's breathing, ragged and strained.

Oikawa sometimes forgot that these kinds of nights tested both of their self control.

That's when he starting sinking in, steady but painfully slow, the solid girth of Iwaizumi's shaft lighting Oikawa's rim and insides into fiery sparks and _need_.

" _Fuck_ ," Iwaizumi breathed.

Oikawa agreed.

He buried himself in Oikawa, not stopping until he bottomed out, and Oikawa was so hot and full that he had to consciously keep his body from squirming. He needed movement; he needed pressure and friction, but Iwaizumi would always make him wait.

There was a moment, a moment longer than it needed to be, in which Iwaizumi allowed Oikawa to fully adjust, staying still until the stillness was likely to drive them both mad. That's when he finally moved, guiding himself out slow so that he could swing his hips back forward, his motion easy and fluid.

Iwaizumi's breath left him roughly, and Oikawa _groaned_ , fingers scrabbling over Iwaizumi's arms to bleach his skin white under the dig of his fingertips. Iwaizumi moved forward, finding his rhythm and tilting his hips until he saw Oikawa's face twist and his voice jumped high and wild from his throat. Hot sensation ripped outward from the slide of Iwaizumi's cock, punctuated by the shock of pleasure when he hit the end of his reach.

Oikawa was moaning, the heat of Iwaizumi's breath sweeping over his cheek, but he was still _wanting_. It wasn't until Iwaizumi was sure of his rhythm and angle, sure of every sensation that he was driving into Oikawa, that his hand fluttered up to Oikawa's throat.

Oikawa's breath hitched even without pressure, cock twitching upward and wetting his stomach with precum. Needy little whines slipped between his lips, back arching up as he tilted his chin upward and bared the whole of his throat in offering.

Iwaizumi's fingers squeezed around Oikawa's throat, enough to make his breathing drag but not enough to stop it, and a bolt of sensation rippled out from the touch, shocking every pore and lighting every nerve bright and hyper sensitive.

Oikawa almost growled, groaned something that was supposed to be "yes" but came out bruised and rough, and he lifted his hips just enough so that Iwaizumi's next thrust drove against his prostate. There was a bark, and Oikawa didn't realize it was him until it echoed back off the empty walls. Iwaizumi softened his hold, allowed oxygen to flood Oikawa's lungs.

It hit Oikawa in a rush, dizzying and hot and cold all at once, sort of like breathing in embers before his lungs cooled them into tiny flecks of ice. His chest and lungs burned, glowing within him, and before Oikawa could grow much more desperate for pressure Iwaizumi gave it to him, stopping the air in his windpipe.

Crackling white blurred behind Oikawa's eyes, his heartbeat strange and audible, vibrating within his ears. Oikawa felt his blood spike, pleasure shocking his limbs into half formed ecstasy. The tips of his fingers started to collect static, their sense of touch fizzling out, and soon it was almost as if he was anchored to this place by just his core, just the slippery friction of Iwaizumi's cock inside him, the firm grip of his hand around Oikawa's throat.

Oikawa felt the sticky heat again, the unraveling in his stomach, but this time it was mounting fast and determined, pulsing brighter with every heartbeat.

Iwaizumi allowed him a breath. It burned again, made his mind spin again, but Oikawa didn't want it, didn't want the air. He moaned, and his hips were starting to buck and his spine was starting to shake.

" _Hajime_ ," he gasped, fingers burying themselves into Iwaizumi's shoulders even though he could barely feel it. He blinked the fog away for a moment, just half a moment, long enough to see how keenly Iwaizumi was watching his face, how desperate and wanting the part of his lips was.

Oikawa felt himself tensing, the tightly wound coil just before release, and his fingernails printed hard crescents into Iwaizumi's skin. His mouth opened, "Haji--"

Iwaizumi cut off all his air, and the name broke off in his throat.

Oikawa's hips bucked, the space behind his eyes careening backward, and he felt his body convulsing, spilling, coming in heavy spurts across his stomach. The waves crashed hard and hot within him, and the noises that attempted to leave his chest would have been excessive in volume if they could have made it out of his throat. Instead it was silent, the mattress squeaking beneath the violent stutter of his limbs.

Then Iwaizumi let go, and Oikawa gulped breath into his lungs like it was his first time breathing, the breaths almost choking as they dragged ragged down his throat. The rush of oxygen seemed to trigger a second wave, his cock still jumping, and all the noises that wanted to leave him scraped loud and raw from his chest in groaning wails.

He gasped, kept gasping as his hips crashed into Iwaizumi's, the oversensitivity making all his nerves and muscles jump. Time and vision started to slip into incoherency, Oikawa's focus falling on its side. He wasn't sure how much time or how many thrusts Iwaizumi needed before he came, but Oikawa did hold onto his breathing, the small groans and constant muttering syllables against his cheek, "Oikawa, Oikawa, _Oikawa_."

Heat filled Oikawa, pulsing into him in waves as Iwaizumi grit his teeth, grounding out moans in the back of his throat.

Oikawa's fingers curled against the back of Iwaizumi's neck, feeling the burn of his flesh across his arms. Iwaizumi slowed and then huffed, large breaths heaving from his chest, and he steadied himself with a momentary pause before sliding free, gently releasing Oikawa.

Oikawa might have made a noise, but his body was all languid heat and his mind was torn apart into fissures of black and cascades of stars. He barely noticed the sensation, just like he barely noticed Iwaizumi flop heavily onto the mattress beside him. Oikawa thought his eyes might have been open, just a little, but he was generally unseeing. His arms and legs were lead, weighty enough that he could have been convinced that the mattress gave more under the press of his imaginary heaviness.

Images were bleary and smudged-- ah, there were images. His eyes must have been open a little. Slowly darkness edged in, black seeping into his vision like the spill of murky watercolor over paper. Oikawa's eyelids fluttered closed without conscious thought.

There was rustling, Iwaizumi shifting on the bed, and then the light press of Iwaizumi's thumb against Oikawa's hip. He slid upward, felt the sheen of sweat under his touch, and then resettled beside Oikawa. Vaguely Oikawa realized he was attempting to judge whether or not to cover Oikawa with a blanket. Considering heat was still rolling off him in waves, he felt Iwaizumi made the correct choice.

Then fingers were at his forehead, gently brushing aside Oikawa's bangs and running through his hair. "Are you okay?" he asked, hands moving in a soothing motion. Oikawa could feel Iwaizumi's gaze resting heavily on his face without having to see it.

"Of course I'm okay," Oikawa answered, voice airy and light.

Iwaizumi kept sliding his fingers through Oikawa's hair, but he didn't say anything. Oikawa sighed, contented, and he moved to curl in toward Iwaizumi.  

"One sec," he said in a quiet voice, lurching off the bed. Oikawa probably hummed something, and Iwaizumi was probably rustling around somewhere in the room, but everything had faded out before it reached Oikawa's consciousness.

When Iwaizumi returned he pressed a washcloth to Oikawa's face, dabbing the damp fabric over his cheeks.

Oikawa tried to move his arm because he wanted to tug Iwaizumi closer, but the motion felt like far too much of a struggle, and he abandoned the idea for the moment. Iwaizumi chuckled beside him.

"I brought you a glass of water," Iwaizumi said, moving down to wipe up the mess on Oikawa's stomach. "It's on the bedside table. You need to drink it."

"Mhm."

"Don't 'mhm' me," Iwaizumi chastised softly.

"Just come here," Oikawa said, fingers crawling across the comforter to tug at Iwaizumi's free arm.

Iwaizumi obeyed, probably because he was done anyway, and laid back down to fit beside Oikawa. He slid his thumb over Oikawa's cheekbone. There was a short silence and then a, "Mm." The mattress squeaked as Iwaizumi moved, "Your pores are still dehydrated. You need to drink water and get in the shower. Give them oxygen."

"My _pores_ ," Oikawa repeated, scoffing a laugh as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Iwaizumi's neck, fingers curling over his chest.

"Yes, your _pores_."

Oikawa inhaled his scent, eyelashes fluttering only in the slightest. He saw tiny flickers of bronze skin. "You're worrying again," Oikawa sighed, pressing a warm kiss to his neck.

Iwaizumi's legs shifted somewhere beneath them. "I worry every time," he grumbled.

"I don't," Oikawa told him flatly.

"I know you don't."

When Oikawa exhaled it was with the words, "I trust you with my everything."

There was a pause, and Oikawa could actually feel the hard pound of Iwaizumi's heart in his chest, rumbling beneath Oikawa's fingers. "Thank you," Iwaizumi whispered. Oikawa smiled against his throat. "But we need to get up," Iwaizumi started to say, muscles tensing to sit upright. "So you can drink your water and get in the shower."

"Wait wait wait," Oikawa sputtered, pushing him back down flat onto the mattress. He curled against Iwaizumi tighter, fitting all their limbs together so they could share warmth. "Just one more minute," Oikawa said, voice small.

Iwaizumi's chest heaved a bit as he sighed. "Fine," he responded, fingers coming back to card through Oikawa's hair. "Just one more minute."

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> http://suggestivescribe.tumblr.com/


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